


Shopping for Peace

by LouPF



Series: Sweet Lullaby [3]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Age Play, C-106, Crying, Fluff, Gift Giving, Healthy Relationships, How Do I Tag, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not Beta Read, POV Jerry, POV Rick, POV Third Person, Pining, Pre-Relationship, ageregression, for the first two chapters and, for the last chapter, i hate the title but whatever, jerry is a sweetheart, jerry isn't a little himself but he Gets It, justice for jerry, looking for a tag like 'healthy son/dad relationship' and im only getting daddy kinks, oh yeah it's still nonsexual y'all, or is it......, the fandom is going to hate me for this one but, unless i change my mind in which case i'll delete the tags yknow, yes i see the irony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: Morty's birthday is coming up, so Rick decides to take him to the mall for a littlespace date. When they get back, they're both tired and fall asleep on Morty's bed.Jerry finds them.
Relationships: Jerry Smith & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez & Beth Smith (Rick and Morty), Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Series: Sweet Lullaby [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785499
Comments: 10
Kudos: 154
Collections: rickmorty fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be two chapters, but I wanted to get the first one out to y'all asap <3

Rick would be the first to admit he was a fucked up person. He was pretty average for a Rick. Refusal to torture or abuse kept him from the 'evil' side of the spectrum, while his willingness to kill or destroy kept him from the 'good' side of the spectrum. Then again, 'pretty average' for a Rick was 'pretty fucked up' for the average person.

He'd learned to live with it. It'd been worse in his youth - plagued by nightmares and guilt while lying in bed, trying to sleep. Now, though? Now he just lay in bed, exasperated over his ability to fall in love with his goddamned grandson, of all people. There wasn't any guilt in it. He knew the pattern: infinite realities, infinite relationships, infinite attractions. Somewhere there were thousands of aroace Ricks - Ricks who'd never fucked and never would fuck, and Ricks who lived as hermits. Somewhere there were Ricks who fucked their Mortys daily. 

He shrugged to himself in the darkness of his room. It was just a thing that happened.

Okay, fair enough, he hadn't  _ expected  _ himself to fall in love. It wasn't a thing he'd planned for or anything. Thankfully for him, he was used to ignoring his own feelings in most matters. Maybe this was a universe where Morty liked him back - maybe it wasn't. Rick wasn't about to force his hand.

He was, however, going to shower him in care and kindness the ways he knew how. And wow, would you look at that! Morty's birthday was in just a week. What a perfect opportunity to show said care and kindness.

That was also, subsequently, why Rick was still awake. He'd been trying to think of something to do for his boy's big day, but his thoughts had drifted, as they tended to do.

It mattered little. An idea was starting to take form. Rick grabbed hold of it with both fists, inspecting and elaborating on it intently.

Yes... yes. It would work just fine.

He nodded to himself, making a brief note on the notepad beside his bed before he rolled over and made an attempt at sleep.

*

Morty was lying face-down in a book when Rick leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"Morty," he said, waiting patiently for Morty to glance up at him. He grinned at the blatant frustration on Morty's face. "Struggling?"

Morty let out a long-suffering groan. "I hate history."

"Y – you and me both," Rick grumbled, pushing away from the frame to stride into the room. "Your – you, uh, you got any plans for your birthday?"

Instantly, Rick had Morty's full attention. "No," he admitted. "I don't."

"Hm. W – well, there's this mall," Rick said, hoping to sound as nonchalant as possible. Judging by how Morty was watching him, he supposed he was failing. "Same company as Blips and Chitz, uh, they – y' know, they say it's – made by littles, for littles."

Morty lit up. "Oh?"

"Y – yeah. So. If you want to go, y' know, the offer's open."

"So it's like a date?" Morty asked.

Rick tensed. "Wh – what?"

A date. A date. A  _ date _ .

"Y'know," said Morty, not a smidgen uncertain, "like – a little date? C – caregiver and little?"

"Oh," said Rick, and hoped the disappointment didn't show on his face. Of course, yes. That made much more sense. "Yes. It's… a date."

Morty beamed. It lasted only a second before he frowned. "Y - you don't think mom and dad are - are g - gonna mind?"

Rick rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

*

"Beth, I'm dibsing Morty on his birthday."

Beth looked up from her phone, startled. "What? Dad, no, I've already done that." She pointed to the Morty calendar on the kitchen wall; various family names were jotted down on specific dates. Mostly Ricks, with a few Beths and the odd Summer or Jerry thrown in. True enough, Morty's birthday was already claimed by Beth+family.

Rolling his eyes, Rick went over to the calendar. He grabbed the pen, scribbled out Beth's name, and wrote his own instead. "Th - there," he said. "I fixed it."

"Dad..."

"L - look, it - it's a v - critical mission, Morty's kinda, y'know, needed, I need him to, to unlock the thingamabob on the planet of, of, uh, legs, and it - it's only open on full moons, and - and, for your  _ information _ , Beth, those - there's only full moons every h - urgh - hundredth year or so." Rick crossed his arms. "So. I - I need him."

Beth, who'd very clearly not been listening to him, only sighed forlornly and made to turn away. "Alright."

Feeling slightly guilty for snatching Morty away from his own mother, Rick scratched out his own name just a few days later, jotting down 'Beth' instead. "Th - there," he muttered. "W - we can celebrate then."

Beth's desolate expression turned warm. "Thanks, dad."

He dropped a kiss to her hair when he walked past. "Course, sweetie."

*

The night before Morty's birthday, Rick crept across the hallway, casting a glance over his shoulder before sneaking into Morty's room. It was past midnight, and most of the house's inhabitants had gone to bed - Summer was out with some friends - and so Morty having gone to bed wasn't a surprise.

"Morty," Rick whispered, spotting the bump on Morty's bed immediately. "M - Mortyyyyy."

The bump stirred. A mop of messy hair surfaced from the pillows. "Hhrnng?"

Rick shut the door with his hip. "Hey, baby boy."

The bump stirred further, Morty - interested, but sleepy - turning towards the door. "...R... Rick?"

He crossed the room swiftly, shrugging out of the lab coat he'd thrown over his shoulder when he left - his excuse would've been 'going to the garage,' if anyone asked - before sinking into the bed beside him. "Y - yeah." He brushed the back of his hand over Morty's forehead, delighted in the way he pushed into him. It was always easier for him to enter littlespace when he was tired - now was no exception. "You looking forward to - you excited for tomorrow, bun?"

And that was why he'd come here - Morty had told him, before, that it was far easier entering littlespace when he woke up if he'd been little the night beforehand, and, well, Rick wanted him to be in littlespace the following day.

Morty caught on almost immediately, shuffling over to make space for Rick. He nodded eagerly, tugging at his duvet to drive the point home.

Chuckling, Rick lay down and pulled him close, rolling his eyes exasperatedly when Morty latched onto him and wrapped his arms around his torso. "Sleep, now, little one," Rick murmured softly, tracing circles across Morty's back. "The alarms are - they're online. Y - you're safe. I've - I got you."

Morty nuzzled into his chest, making a soft, gentle noise. Rick exhaled, content.

Tomorrow would be busy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aliens in this chapter are canon! Check out their wikia page if you want.

When Rick woke, he woke slowly. It wasn't typical for him - his years of being on edge, chased across the universe, had not done good things for him. Still - he could appreciate waking slow once in a while, too.

Morty was sprawled half across his chest, watching him with big eyes. Jesus, how long had he been awake? And why hadn't he woken him up?

Oh, whatever.

"Good morning, baby," Rick said, and Morty's eyes shone. Stretching as much as he could with a teenager on top of him, Rick asked, "what's the time?"

Morty made the half-hum half-grumble that meant he was going to speak, but he didn't like it. "Six f - fifty-seven."

"Ooh," said Rick, and sat up. "Perfect time, then. Y - you rested enough, bun?"

"Mhm," Morty sounded, bouncing a bit on the mattress as Rick swung his legs over the side of the bed. He made the same humming sound again. "W - we goin', papa?"

Rick chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Y - yeah, you little sh - cutie, we are." Hoping to conceal his slip up, he beckoned Morty closer. "Let's get dressed, huh?"

After helping Morty out of his pyjamas and into little clothes - an oversized shirt pooling around his hands, complete with some cute shorts with patterns of bees and honey jars and colourful galaxy-inspired socks -, Rick went to his room and got dressed, too. "You ready to go?" Rick asked, after having strapped Morty's little backpack - full with a sippy cup, some wipes, Morty's favourite crayons, and Rosa.

Morty, though, was frowning. He hummed through pursed lips. "Papa... binky...?"

Rick pulled his favourite out of his pocket, strapping it onto his shirt. "Right here, angel." Morty lit up, rushing forward to hug his waist. "Yeah, yeah," Rick said softly. "C'mon, then."

*

It'd been a while since Rick had been at the mall, but he hadn't forgotten the layout. He'd planned out a little arrangement for them: shopping for toys and looking around while Morty was still energic, lunch at one of the many restaurants spread around the place, then naptime - and finally, comfort items before returning home for rest.

Morty was staring around with wide eyes, one hand fit snug in Rick's, the other curled around Rosa. He was making little intrigued noises, glancing at various store windows as they walked past.

"B - big, huh?" Rick asked. Morty nodded. "Okay, sweetie, uh - uh... not all these stores are, y'know, uh, safe for humans like us."

"Wuh??" Morty exclaimed, muffled around his binky.

Adorable. "No worries," Rick soothed, "p - papa knows which ones."

"...kay," Morty muttered, stepping a bit closer.

"C'mon, baby," Rick said, nudging his shoulder lightly. "Lead - lead the way. Yeah, really. C'mon. I trust you."

*

"You on a - a dinosaur spree, huh?" asked Rick, helping Morty pack away a colouring book focused on dinosaurs. It fit snugly next to the dinosaur action figurine and keychain.

Morty gave him a pout.

Rick grinned. "That's - that's okay. You know, I know just the place you'd like..."

*

"Table for two?"

"Yeah. Caregiver and little."

The alien waitress, dressed in dinosaur prints and a wide smile, nodded. "And would that be two menus, sir?"

Rick glanced down at Morty, who was now occupied with playing with the clip of his pacifier. "Ye - yeah," he concluded. "One of both."

"Got it!" She smiled again, giving Morty a sweet look before guiding the two of them into the dinosaur-themed restaurant.

*

"Morty."

Morty looked up from his dinosaur nuggets. "Mhh?"

"Eat your food."

He pouted.

"C'mon. Be a good boy for papa."

Groaning theatrically, Morty stopped playing with the nuggets.

*

Swooping by, the waitress asked, "Is the food fine?"

Morty nodded eagerly, kicking his feet beneath the table.

The waitress let out a tinkling laugh. "Oh, aren't you wonderful."

"Ye - yeah, he really is," Rick said, sticking out his tongue at Morty when he looked shocked. Right as the waitress was leaving, Rick reached out and stopped her. "Hey, hey, uhm - you, you wouldn't know a good napping place, would you?"

"Oh!" She lit up. "Actually, yes, there's a great place just down the hall here, to the right - it's right next to the elevator, you can't miss it. I take my little one there often, it's so cozy and nice." She gestured as she spoke, pointing down the hall with her claws. "There's both napping, changing, and playing areas - as well as some vending machines with various snacks for big and small."

Rick thanked her, then turned to Morty, watching intently with a half-eaten nugget in his hands. "How's that - how's that sound, bun?"

Morty nodded aggressively.

*

The napping area was nice and open with cushions, chairs, and various toys littered about. A corner was dedicated to a small playground, and a pile of blankets were heaped up in another. There were diapers and pacifiers and baby food in the vending machine, plus some carbonated drinks. 

Morty squealed and giggled when he lay eyes on it, tugging on Rick's hand to make him go faster. "Wh – whoah," Rick said, amused. "Easy there, cowboy." He chuckled when Morty threw a pout over his shoulder, tugging harder. "Yeah, yeah, I'm – I'm coming, sweetie."

Rick settled into one of the comfortable chairs lining the walls, watching contently as Morty staggered over to some puzzle game in a corner. A bit hidden away from the others, yes, but more open than Rick had expected him to be.

Morty was growing comfortable with this.

Sinking into the chair, Rick smiled softly. Morty's focus as he worked through the puzzle was adorable; his teeth on his lip, brows furrowed, and eyes squinted. It was so vastly different from the way he showed focus when big it almost looked like another person entirely. Rick had firsthand experience with seeing Morty focused before – blood splattered on his clothes and eyes cold and hard, bruised fingers curled around guns and gems and shields.

He'd never admit it, but seeing Morty calm and happy was like ice on the aching wound of their shared pain.

A Greebybobe approached his Morty, babbling away in their language. Rick kept a careful eye on the two of them, ready to interrupt if things took a wrong turn - but he could breathe easily when Morty only showed interest in the intruder. At least they were the same size…

Another Greebybobe – slightly darker in colour, petite and smiling – sat in the chair next to Rick. They uttered some garbled words, then fell silent, clearly expecting a response.

"Oh!" said Rick, "wa – wait, hold on." He fiddled with the translator device fastened to his belt buckle, tuning it to the wavelength of the Greebybobes' language. "Come again?"

"That's your little boy, isn't it?" the Greebybobe asked, tipping their head at Morty. "I saw you come in."

"Y – yeah," said Rick. "And that's your, uh…"

"Girl."

"Little girl. Right." Rick offered his hand. "Name's Rick."

The Greebybobe shook it. "Shakrish," they said. "And, forgive me for asking, but I thought Earth frowned upon relationships where the participants are far apart in age?"

Rick stared for a moment. "O –  _ oh _ . Y – yeah, they, uh, we do. We do. We aren't… Morty and I aren't, well, you know. Involved." Unfortunately.

"Oh, I see," said Shakrish. "A shame. You look nice together."

Rick barked a laugh. "Thanks."

They watched the two littles play together for a bit, managing just fine despite the language barrier. The Greebybobe talked enough for the both of them, gesturing eagerly as they worked their way through the puzzle.

The last piece clicked into place, and Morty squealed in delight as he clapped his hands. The Greebybobe let out a long string of happy-sounding noises. Eyes shining, Morty looked up, seeking Rick – finding him and exclaiming, "papa!" He clambered to his feet and ran over, excited, putting his hands on Rick's knees and leaning into him. "Papa! Puzzle!"

"Yeah," Rick said, smiling as he ruffled Morty's hair. "Yeah, I – I saw you solve it, you and – and your little friend, huh?" Morty nodded eagerly. "W – well done, you're – you're a real smart one, bun." He let Morty crawl into the chair and settle in his lap, curled up and  _ small _ . Smiling softly, Rick wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on his head. "My good little boy."

Morty yawned, nodding against his neck. 

"Naptime?" Rick whispered, trailing his fingers down the nape of Morty's neck. When he received another small nod, he shifted to drag the pacifier still clipped to Morty's shirt out, guiding it between his lips.

"Thank you," Morty mumbled around the nipple.

Rick only kissed his hair in response.

Shakrish's little had also padded over, sitting nestled between their feet as she drank eagerly from a bottle. "You ready to go home, love?" Shakrish asked gently, running their tentacle-like hands over the fins at the back of their little's head. At the eager nod in response, Shakrish smiled at Rick. "Nice to meet you, Rick of Earth. May your path be bright."

Unsure of what the proper response would be to that, Rick tried, "And, uh, and yours, too." It seemed to work, for they have him another smile and nodded in response before they walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

*

Morty woke on his own half an hour later, which was a relief, because Rick was seriously starting to get bored with his phone - and a bored Rick Sanchez was a dangerous Rick Sanchez.

With Morty awake, though, they were back in business. Next on the list was comfort items - plushies, pacifiers, bottles, and so on. Rick could tell Morty was tired, though, so he decided to make it short. "Anything in particular you, uh, you want, baby boy?"

Morty lit up and skipped a few steps. "Cuddle cloth?"

And good God, he was so adorable. Rick would find a way to create energy from nothing if Morty asked. "Sure," he said, and steered them in a different direction. "I know j - just the place."

Thirty minutes, a bull shark cuddle cloth and a blankie patterned with whales later, they were ready to go home. It was getting late back on Earth - they'd spent a long time eating lunch - and travelling by ship was tiring, but exciting, for little Morty.

First, though... "Should - do you want some ice cream, bun? From - from that place you like?" Rick asked.

Morty turned wide, gleeful eyes on him. He wouldn't have gotten a clearer yes if Morty had been shouting into a megaphone.

Rick grinned and ruffled his hair. "Sure thing."

*

The sun was setting by the time they made it to the ice cream parlour. Rick watched as Morty all but inhaled the huge ice cream, heart purring contently in his chest as glee and joy spread on Morty's face. God, he was lucky to have such a great grandkid. Even among Mortys. Rick wouldn't have wanted any other version of him - they weren't identical and rarely acted purely the same way, even if most Ricks wanted to pretend so.

He himself was proof enough of that, he mused, with heat blooming through him as the sunlight hit Morty's hair just-so, setting it ablaze.

Morty waved a hand before his face. "Papa?"

Rick shook himself, straightening. "Uh, y - yes, Morty?"

Ducking his head, Morty tapped his nails against the bowl. "Uh - uhm... could you - uh - 'ead? Fo' me? Home?"

It took him a moment to realize what Morty had asked for. "A bedtime story?"

Morty nodded bashfully.

"Of course, baby," Rick said. "Of course."

Anything for him.

*

They portaled into Morty's room, not wanting to chance the risk of facing the family like this - Morty was so far into littlespace that it would probably terrify the poor guy. Together they brushed their teeth and prepared for bed, Rick gently helping Morty out of his shirt and into his pyjamas. "Well?" he asked. "Wh - what story?"

Morty scrunched up his nose as he thought. "Th, the one about the duck?"

"The one about the duck," Rick said fondly. It was Morty's favourite. "Of course."

He found the appropriate book then helped Morty get settled in, wrapped up in his covers and blankets before he let him rest against Rick's side. "Mmm... papa?"

Rick hummed, casting a glance down at him.

Morty beamed at him. He put a hand on his cheek, leaned up, and pressed their lips together in a wet kiss.

It was just for a moment, incredibly childish in the way it was done, and Morty pulled back with a giggle. 

Rick stared at him for a moment, but when Morty only returned his look by popping his pacifier back in, he forced himself to relax.

It probably meant nothing. It had to mean nothing.

Right?

Shakily, Rick began to read. He knew Morty loved his voice - he almost always fell asleep while he read for him, too, especially when he was little. It was true today, too - Morty's eyelids drooping, then shutting completely, the small boy going still beside him.

Shutting the book gently, Rick shifted to curl into Morty, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. "Happy birthday, Morty," he whispered. "Papa loves you, baby boy."

His heart ticked quick and impulsive, and he decided right then and there to discuss the kiss with Morty the next day.

With that final thought, he let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Jerry!


	3. Chapter 3

"Have they come home yet?"

Beth sighed from her chair, fingers fluttering back and forth across her knitting project - another creative outlet she'd taken to recently. "I don't know, Jerry," she said. "Can't you just leave them alone for a bit? It's nice that Morty has someone to stay with for his birthday."

Jerry looked down at his lap, hands clutching at each other. "Fine," he said, feeling very much like a disobedient lap dog. An ugly one, at that. He opened his mouth, about to ask if anyone wanted to play any board games, but found both Summer and Beth immersed in their respective hobbies.

The words died in his throat.

"I'm going to bed," he said softly, standing from the couch.

No reaction.

He trodded over to the stairs and made his way slowly up to the hallway. Initially, he'd been going for the bathroom, but he paused when he passed Morty's room.

The door had been open, and the room empty this morning. It was closed now.

Jerry, hoping that he maybe could wish happy birthday to his son, gently pushed open the door.

It was dark and quiet inside, but the light from the hallway spilled in and fell onto the two shapes on the bed.

Huh? Two shapes?

Opening the door just a bit more, the light revealed the figures to be none other but his father-in-law and son.

His heart stuttered.

And then his eyes caught up with the completely innocent display and his heart beat anew.

Morty was packed up in his covers, and they were both sitting upright and leaning on each other. There was a book in Rick's lap and a hand in Morty's hair, so it was pretty clear what had been going on.

How sweet - Jerry hadn't known Rick actually knew how to show affection.

His eyes landed on the pacifier in Morty's mouth, and he outright had to stifle a gasp.

Shit. Oh, holy shit, okay.

His mind raced as he hastily landed on two conclusions: kink or age regression.

Rick was with him. Favour for age regression. Jerry knew Morty didn't exactly live the best life and was probably traumatized from left to right and back again. Also favour for age regression.

Without as much as a single sound, Jerry crept out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.

It wasn't that it was a bad thing if Morty was into BDSM, Jerry loved him and would support him in anything, but with Rick in his bed...

Jerry closed his eyes and did what he was best at: pretended hard that everything was fine.

So Morty was an age regressor. A little.

It had been decades since Jerry was involved in the community - after marrying Beth, he'd had to leave it - but there'd been a time when he was a caregiver with several adoring littles. Long ago, yes, but he still understood how they ticked.

Jerry made his way to the bedroom, head filled with thoughts. He knew Morty was probably scared - worried, maybe, that his parents wouldn't support him. A lot of Jerry's littles had been. Was there a way Jerry could show his support without making it awkward...?

A lightbulb clicked.

The pacifier.

Yes - Jerry could get him a pacifier. That would be sweet, right? A little "I see and support you" gift. Surely that would be welcome?

He had no choice but to try.

*

Breakfast the next morning was like every other morning, including Jerry's half-assed attempts at conversation and the family's half-assed excuses to not listen. Well. Except for one thing: the air between Morty and Rick was more awkward than usual. Jerry watched them closely, noting how they weren't looking at each other and rarely spoke.

Was it the first time Rick had taken care of Morty? The first time usually was a bit awkward.

Poor guys. He hoped they figured it out.

Jerry observed as the house slowly emptied, Summer and Morty leaving first and Beth following a bit after. Rick watched the TV for an hour - Jerry did the dishes and folded laundry - then loudly announced he'd be going to work in the garage.

Jerry listened to the door slam, then the ship starting up and the garage door opening. He rolled his eyes and continued folding laundry. Honestly, he wasn't that dumb.

After finishing the daily chores and making sure he had all the ingredients he needed for dinner, Jerry threw on a jacket and went to wait for the bus. He knew just the perfect store downtown - it was a locally owned place specializing in the non-sexual gear of BDSM, advertising itself as being for "both age regressors and kink-lovers." Yeah, it was pricy, but for a gift like this, he felt it was okay to give a little extra.

The store had changed a good bit since last he was there, and he tapped his fingers together a bit nervously when he stepped in. He had hoped he'd be able to navigate it himself, but... sighing, he made his way over to the clerk.

"Good afternoon!" she greeted cheerily. "Are you here for gear of the sexual or the non-sexual variant?"

"U, uhm," said Jerry. "Non-sexual, please. I'm looking for a p - pacifier for my son?"

The clerk blinked, momentarily taken back, but gathered her wits quickly. "Certainly, sir." She stepped around the desk and walked further into the room. Jerry stumbled after her. "What does he like?"

"I don't - I don't really know," Jerry admitted, side-stepping a shelf. "He - he doesn't know I'm here, see, uh... I found him sleeping with a - a pacifier the other day, and, uh, I used to be a caregiver, and I just..." He shrugged a little, happy to see that the clerk had turned around to give him a soft, curious look. "I just want to show him I - I support him, I guess."

Her curious look became a gentle smile. "You're a good dad."

"Not always," Jerry muttered, looking away.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll figure it out. Here - the pacifiers." She walked him through various models and designs, leaving him to his own to decide on a specific model.

After some thinking, he ended up on a space-themed pacifier. Morty liked space. He reminded Jerry a bit of Patricia in that, a playful little who'd adored him more than anything else - she'd always been so happy whenever he got her something that had to do with space.

"This one," he said, and put the box down on the counter.

"Certainly," said the clerk kindly. "Do you want me to wrap it?"

"Please."

She removed the pacifier from the plastic clasp, then cleaned it off with a wipe and some running water before placing it down in something resembling a jewelry box. Finally, she wrapped it in some nondescript paper, tying it off with a simple bow. When she handed it over, she smiled. "I'm sure he'll love it."

Jerry returned the smile, genuinely grateful for her help. "Thank you so much, I - I really appreciate it."

*

When he came back, Morty and Rick were sitting on the living room couch, locked in intense conversation. They shut up abruptly when Jerry entered the room, Morty giving him an uncertain look and Rick glaring.

"Sorry, sorry," Jerry muttered, backing out again. "Just checking..." He genuinely didn't want to know what they'd been talking about.

Sighing quietly to himself, Jerry made his way upstairs, tucking the little gift box away beneath the bed. Absentmindedly, he made Beth's side of the bed - she hadn't done that in ages - and gathered the seven wine glasses scattered across the room.

Cautiously, he peeked into the living room. Morty and Rick were back to watching TV, sitting in comfortable silence. Good to know they'd worked through it.

Jerry walked by behind them, making his way into the kitchen. "I'm starting dinner," he called to them. "Any specific wishes?"

"Use more salt!" Rick replied.

"Use less salt!" Morty countered.

Jerry paused, staring down at the to-be-cleaned vegetables. "Uh... how about I use less salt but refill the salt shaker?" he tried meekly.

Rick's resigned groan was nearly drowned out in Morty's cheer, and Jerry smiled warmly.

*

Dinner went as usual. Jerry could barely sit still in his excitement, his little secret waiting upstairs, wrapped up and neat. He kept stealing glances at Morty, hoping desperately he'd appreciate the gift. Only Rick seemed to notice Jerry's glances, but he didn't appear too bothered or suspicious, only rolling his eyes exasperatedly. After dinner, Jerry gathered the dishes, getting some voluntary help from Summer. He gave her a warm smile, and she rolled her eyes at him, but he could see the gleam in her expression when she turned away.

After checking and double-checking that Summer and Beth were both in the living room and Rick in the garage, Jerry trodded upstairs. Wetting his lips, he grabbed the pacifier from beneath his bed and crept up to Morty's bedroom door.

Gently, he knocked.

A pause. "Come in?"

Morty sounded genuinely perplexed, and Jerry swallowed, opening the door and peeking in. "Hey," he said, and, encouraged by the room being empty other than Morty sitting upright in bed, stepped inside. "I, uh, I have a little something for you."

Intrigued, Morty put down his phone and swung his feet off the edge of the bed. "O - okay?"

Silently, Jerry handed over the present. When Morty only turned it over in his hands, Jerry gave a half-shrug. "Go on... open it."

Morty was careful when removing the paper. He cocked an eyebrow at the nondescript black box beneath, but slotted his fingers into the crack, easily lifting the top off.

He drew a sharp breath. What little Jerry could see of his face went pale, his eyes wide, shoulders tense.

"It - I, uhm, I saw you, uh, yesterday, and I - I wanted to show you that - well, it's okay, you know? I... I support you. It's okay," Jerry stuttered out, shifting his weight as he waited for a reaction.

Morty's breath hitched. When he looked up, his eyes were wet with tears.

Oh, shit, had Jerry said the wrong thing? Should he have ignored the whole thing? Damn it, he'd just been trying to -

Dropping the box to the floor, Morty flew across the floor and threw his arms around Jerry's torso, face pressed into his shirt.

Awestruck, Jerry returned the hug, not minding one bit when Morty shook.

When was the last time his son had hugged him? God, he couldn't remember.

Morty pulled back, a hesitant smile on his face. He wiped at his cheeks, drying his tears before he bent to pick up the box. "Wh - what kind is...?"

"Round," said Jerry, watching as Morty pulled the pacifier out of the box, inspecting the design. "And it, uhm, it glows in the dark."

A soft gasp. "Really?"

Jerry chuckled a bit nervously. "Y - yeah! You, uh..." He poked his fingers together. "You like it?"

Morty stepped over again, giving him a brief hug. "Yeah. Thanks, dad."

"Anytime, son."

And as Jerry sunk into the couch cushions in the living room, an arm draped across Beth's shoulders, he sat comfortably in the knowledge that things were going to be okay.

Things were going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! And for all the kind comments on the previous parts of this series, I read and appreciate them all even if I can't respond <3 Your support means a ton!!!


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